Enanti
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Inspired by 100themes Livejournal community. 100 oneshots centering around Ratchet and Clank. RachetClank slash, updated randomly.
1. 32, Homemade

Author's Notes: -pumps fist in the air- Okay, I admit it. Even though this fic is under romance, it's a lot of friendship too. In fact, I think friendship will be taking up most of this fic no matter what I attempt to do otherwise. So for all you people who saw the 100themes mark and immediately assumed it was going to be one hundred wonderful, long, paperback novel-esque romances, I'm sorry. But forced fics always suck, so just try to enjoy my non forced, hopefully not too sucky chapters. Rest assured that at the very least, there shall be deep friendship.

In any case, reviews would be appreciated.

I own absolutely nothing, by the way. At all.

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Clank loved information.

Vid comics weren't so much his thing, but books, computer files, and any informative documentary was. Ratchet would watch, amused, as Clank shut out the world around him in a very un-robotic way and zeroed in on whatever he was doing. There was something about information that drew Clank in like a piece of metal to a magnet. He loved to sit there, getting smarter, until his mind filled up entirely. When he was finished with whatever it was, his face would have an expression that was similar to any geek's face, and Ratchet would think to himself that either nerds were like robots or robots were like nerds, because that look was identical.

Ratchet, for the most part, was the same way on certain subjects. Everyone has their interests, after all. The difference was that Ratchet was always multitasking. He might be reading, but he was thinking and talking at the same time. He would never be so utterly focused on one thing as to lose track of time or forget where he was. That was Clank's thing, because Clank was capable of that. Actually, Clank was capable of so many 'squishy' behaviors and 'fleshy' emotions it was mind boggling. The irony was that Ratchet was capable of shoving fear aside in an almost robotic manner and multitasking like a well run machine. However, no matter how into whatever he was reading he was, he was always aware of his surroundings.

Ratchet, therefore, had been aware of Clank watching him for at least two minutes. Why the little robot was just standing there, not moving or saying anything, Ratchet didn't know. All he knew was that he was only giving Clank three more minutes, then he was going to start asking why. Maybe Clank was lost in thought. Hey, if he could zone out reading, why shouldn't he be able to go into a daydream otherwise? Ratchet turned a page, thinking meditatively that some day, he'd like to have some sort of internal schematic of his friend just to figure out how all this weird behavior was possible. Not that he minded Clank's quirkiness. But right now it played on Ratchet's soldier sense, having someone hover over him. It caused him to tense up slightly, and annoyed him a little.

"Ratchet?" Clank finally asked.

"Yes?" Ratchet turned his head toward his friend, but continued to read. "What is it?"

Clank paused. "If I'm interrupting something, this can wait."

Just one, he wished Clank would be a bit more outspoken. "I can do this later." To prove the point, he put the bookmark in, stretched, stood, and turned to face Clank fully. "Now, what..."

Silence.

"Is that a cake?" Ratchet finally managed to ask, his eyebrows raised slightly. "I didn't know that you knew how to make that."

"I wished to try, and Sasha gave me her recipe," Clank explained, nervously shifting his weight from one side to the other. "I want you to try it first, if you don't mind."

Clank had gotten nervous, well, as nervous as a robot could be, over cake? Ratchet never would have thought it possible if hadn't happened in front of him. All these emotions from his robotic friend were starting to get to the strange point. Nonetheless, he smiled, took the plate offered him, and without hesitation took a bite. Even though a part of him had been expecting a robot to mess up the recipe or something, it was pretty good. In fact, he felt kind of bad for even half doubting his friend. It was sweet and light; for all Clank's doubts, the average cake. Nothing had gone wrong. In fact, there hadn't even been a problem baking it, because any noise would've been picked up by Rachet's sensitive ears. So why was Clank so worried? This was great.

"How much of this can I have?" Ratchet asked, a bit sheepishly.

"I need to save a piece for Sasha," Clank replied, then blinked. "I take it you enjoy my cooking?"

How could Ratchet explain what Clank looked like right then? He was like a small child seeking approval. His eyes were so open and honest. It was one of those moments in time where Ratchet completely forgot he was talking to a machine. Clank was rarely ever truly unnerved by something. This was almost surreal. Now he was practically begging for it to have been okay. He was vulnerable. If not for the taste of cake in his mouth, the Lombax would've sworn this was a dream. In that moment, for the first time in Ratchet's life, he became completely focused on something: Clank. No longer was he thinking about multiple things at once. His only thought was that Clank was, in this moment, actually kind of cute.

"I love it," Ratchet smiled at his friend. "But for the record, things that are homemade are always the best. I'd never hate anything you made me, Clank."

Clank smiled as he briefly took back the cake to save a piece.

He loved this information.

He loved it a lot.


	2. 76, Magic

Author's Notes: I feel bad about how short this chapter is. I'm going to have to work really hard to bring the word count up on some of the other ones... But hey, I've got 100 themes to work with. I'm sure one of them will inspire me to longer, better chapters. As it is, I hope you enjoy this one. It's not super romantic, but I liked the idea too much to ignore it. Besides, I've got some ideas for the other themes that are VERY romantic, so I'm trying to achieve a balance, here. :)

Reviews would be deeply appreciated. That one which I have, I cherish deeply.

I own absolutely nothing, by the way. At all. Ever.

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Everything Clank knew told him there was no such thing as magic.

It was a word used by organics to describe things. However, what those things were varied widely. Sasha used 'magical' to describe a planet of flowers. Qwark used the term 'like magic' to describe himself. Troops often refered to Ratchet coming to the rescue with the phrase, 'just like magic, he was there'. A variety of people had called Clank's performances as Secret Agent Clank 'magical'. It was one of those words, like cool, that popped up in many different situations.

He didn't understand it. Research into it showed magic was illogical. Magic made strange, impossible things happen all of a sudden. The mechanics of magic were unstable. Essentially, it was an unstable, illogical power that made pumpkins turn into carriages and made a frog into a Lombax somehow.

Clank said this to Sasha and was laughed at.

"You're missing the point," Sasha told him. "It's not about logic or definitions."

"Then what is it?"

She pondered for a moment, a blissful smile coming across her features. "It's like the most wonderful feeling in the universe."

Emotions. Clank grasped those, to a degree. "You mean like joy?"

"And awe. It's hard to explain."

Joy and awe. Clank now understood the reasons why people used the word as they did. A planet of flowers inspired joy and awe with their beauty. Qwark inspired himself. Ratchet brought joy, awe, and usually several large explosions wherever he went. Clank's television series was a joy to watch. He understood the concepts each in their own context. The problem was trying to get himself to put flowers, Qwark, Ratchet, and television into the same bubble witin his mind. All these things were interesting, but they were all very different. How could they all be magical?

The very idea of magic was shaky. One thing was magical to some. To others, it was not. Flowers would not be magical to Ratchet. Television would not be magical to Qwark. The whole basis of magic was perception, and from Clank's logical standpoint, not much was magical. Things could be beautiful, yes. Awe inspiring, certainly. But both at the same time was rare. Magic was all in the eyes of the beholder, and in the eyes of a mechanical beholder not much would stand up to analysis.

It wasn't until one day at Annihilation Nation that Clank got it.

Eager to test out how far he could jump, Ratchet had decided Clank should just sit in the stands. The whole thing suddenly became very good television as the Lombax just barely made huge leaps, narrowly dodged flames, and at times ran on all fours for jumps that would have made Clank's heart stop, if he had one. The crowd was going insane. Ratchet was working up a sweat. Clank felt vaguely ill, which didn't make sense. The Lombax was running, jumping, and firing off far too many shots. Ammunition went bouncing. He was at the end of the course now.

With a grin, not even looking at the camera as he did so, Ratchet raised one arm and fired a single shot.

Sparks and static played across the screen that Clank watched. The image of Ratchet amongst sparks, static, mechanical things, robot symbols before it all faded to black...

Magic.

Everything Clank knew told him that Ratchet was pure, amazing magic.


	3. 84, World of Dreams

Author's Notes: Now, this chapter, I like! It's much longer than the other one, and content heavy without overloading the fic. Also, I liked how I wrote Ratchet here at... certain... parts. -giggles a fangirl giggle- Well, anyway, here's my third chapter today. Don't say Fluffle never did anything for you.

Reviews would be deeply appreciated. That one which I have, I cherish deeply.

I own absolutely nothing, by the way. At all. Ever. Until time ends.

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Ratchet didn't want this.

He did not want to be attracted to his best friend. That never ended well. It was a fatal attraction, and he knew it. He'd seen it. It would all be good for a while, then romance would come along and rip apart the friendship in question. Romance made everything a big deal, made little fights giant ones, and made happy times awkward. He didn't want to fight with Clank and have those awkward moments. Ratchet liked what they had now: friendship, no extreme sentiments attached.

If Ratchet had his way, he would never think about how he felt about Clank. If he could, he would quietly push these thoughts aside, into the back of his mind. If only it were possible, he would go through his entire life as Clank's friend and nothing more. This was not the time in his life for these kinds of thoughts. Maybe later. But not now. Please not now, not when Ratchet had finally found a real purpose to his life. No, this couldn't happen after he'd figured out what he excelled at, found friends and otherwise settled down. Ratchet wouldn't let this ruin him. Life was too good right now.

But in the world of dreams, anything was possible.

In his dreams, he and Clank would already somehow have a perfect, stabilized relationship. Clank would be his best friend plus kisses and more smiles. In his dreams, Ratchet never had to worry about falling apart or fighting. It was all alright there. Everything was going good. They lived a wonderful life in his dreams. Often, worryingly, his dreams were flashbacks with romance added in, suggesting he'd been feeling this way for longer than he consciously knew. But it didn't even matter at night, because Clank was there. Clank was in his arms, Clank was by his side, Clank was there. There and closer than ever.

The problem arose when some of reality's moments became a little too dreamy.

When Clank would briefly take his hand or offer him a smile that looked like it came straight out of dreamworld, Ratchet's heart would skip a beat. There were little romantic gestures going on here. Soft words, little moments, tiny touches. Ratchet could almost swear that Clank was very subtly flirting with him. He could see it. Some moments were so close to dreams he'd had that it scared Ratchet. His dreams and his life needed to be apart, just like love and Clank needed to be. It just needed to be that way, for his sanity's sake.

The real issue was that Ratchet was scared. In a dream, upon waking, it's all over. There is no risk involved in a dream. No matter what happened, it really couldn't be that bad. In the worst case scenario, rejection or over indulgence, but nothing that would carry over to life after the alarm clock rang. He could make all those dreams go away. But reality had no do-overs.

Some dreams made him question aspects of reality. How could Clank have sex? It was something he really refused to even entertain, no matter how briefly, until he dreamed about it. The next morning, Ratchet felt dirty, contaminated. No matter how in love he was, that kind of dream should never have happened. He went through the next week feeling like everything he did in regards to Clank was wrong. He found himself apologizing all the time, usually over nothing. Though he hated himself for even going there even in his dreams, he couldn't reverse it to save his life. Ratchet was not someone who took this kind of thing lightly, and he felt dirty every time he began to question the mechanics of a physical relationship. Clank could sense the air of guilt about his friend, though he didn't know the cause.

Ratchet wanted all these dreams to just stop. No more kissing Clank in his mind, no more living together as a couple in his mind, and certainly not what he had pictured that night. It wasn't fair to be thinking these kinds of things about someone who was just a friend. He was going to stop this right now.

Unfortunately, the night he decided that, he could not get to sleep. He kept twisting and turning over and over, thinking about things he did not want to think about. Ratchet did everything he could think of, but nothing ever managed to work. His mind was going places he desperately begged it not to. He felt like a pervert. Clank was a friend, just a friend, not anything else. What would he think if he knew Ratchet thought this? Cringing, the Lombax turned over the umpteenth time. His head was beginning to hurt from all this thinking. All he wanted was for everything to be normal again. Clank could be his best friend again, nothing else even in dreams, and life could go on, a haze of good times and explosions. If only he could just get to sleep!

When Ratchet finally fell asleep, his last thought was that he hoped his dreams would be Clank free. Really, he had no chance with his friend. Robots did not swing towards organics, he told his mind, remember that. Please, remember some things are impossible.

But, yet, another part of his mind argued...

Anything was possible in the world of dreams.


	4. 41, The Falling of Cherry Blossoms

Author's Notes: This chapter may be a little OOC, but the mental image would not leave me. I tried and tried and it was stuck in my head. Also, note that I moved cherry blossoms onto another planet, not due to want but because to the best of my memory, no planet in Ratchet and Clank really has cherry blossoms in the classical, pink, lovey dovey sense...

Reviews would be deeply appreciated. Those which I have, I love, because they show I am not the only one who looked at the games and saw this couple. -smiles- Up with the underground pairings, people!

I own absolutely nothing, by the way. At all. Ever. Until time ends. And even after that.

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Komanikura cherry blossoms.

Shades of softest, lightest pastel pink and deepest magenta, the petals coated the ground. It was almost like rain, but softer. Even though they hadn't come here for this, Ratchet wanted a few minutes to just sit by one and relax. So many different stressors in his life, and no time to stop and smell the cherry blossoms! Really, even though Ratchet loved action and adventure in his life, it was moments like these that he adored. A few seconds of peace and quiet. The petals fell on him, but the Lombax didn't bother to brush them off.

Four moons in crescent stage. The grey sky was lighting up with hints of blue in the clouds. There was a sweet smell in the air. Ratchet could see why this part of the planet was sectioned off. The only thing that could have made it better was...

"May I join you?"

"Clank," the Lombax blinked. "When did you get here?"

"Precisely five point three seconds ago." The robot smiled faintly, plopping down beside Ratchet. "I wondered where you were."

Clank's side was pressed against Ratchet's. Without meaning to, the Lombax blushed slightly. This was one of those moments where he could almost swear that Clank was flirting with him, even though he knew that couldn't be right. After all, Ratchet told himself firmly, Clank was a straight robot who went for robots. Now was not the time to think about this. Now was the time to just look at the sunrise and enjoy the moment.

Very timidly, Clank took Ratchet's hand.

And though he wanted to freak out, before he even knew what he was doing, he had pulled Clank closer. He... he was _holding_ him. Ratchet could feel his mind panic even as his body relaxed against Clank's small frame. Clank needed to be held. It wasn't as if Ratchet was putting the moves on him or anything. Clank simply needed this, he told himself as butterflies danced in his stomach and he felt himself smile uncontrollably. The robot did not pull away or react oddly to this contact.

Instead, he moved towards it. Clank snuggled into him, seeking the warmth only an organic could provide. He didn't mean to. He knew the best thing would be to pull away before Ratchet got any ideas. Or, rather, before Ratchet got any right ones. He just couldn't bring himself to move. There was something about the scent in the air, the sight of the petals, and the colors of the sky. Clank didn't want to pull away just yet.

"Ratchet," he whispered softly. Not a question, not a start of a sentence. Just a name. His glowing green eyes closed for a moment. "Do you feel that?"

"Clank," the Lombax nodded once, his own eyes half lidded, as if about to sleep. "Yeah, I do."

No more words were needed. Neither one of them was ready for any other words. It was too early. Ratchet was awkward about even saying what he had. So he chose not to focus on that. Clank chose not to press the issue. Their embrace was the most real physical contact they'd ever had. Ratchet could feel the cool metal against him. Clank could feel the warmth of Ratchet's body. So mismatched, but so perfectly matched.

They sat together, closer than ever before, under the fallings of a cherry blossom tree.

Neither of them had to say I love you.

It was as good as said.


	5. 30, Blood

Author's Note: This is probably the single most canon contradicting chapter ever in terms of giving Ratchet a new little bit of a backstory (or rather, hinting at it) but I wanted to get the blood theme out of the way. So... yeah. This chapter also abuses '...' a lot. It's actually just lifted and modified from a fanfic I never put up, which was basically going to dig through Ratchet's past in detail and be very RatchetClank, but it never got off the ground because at the time of writing that, it was years ago and my lack of detail would've made the story Quizilla worthy. Anyway, because I wanted to start this updating sequence off with something less fluffy, I retrieved part of my old fic and rewrote it some.

I own nothing, absolutely nothing, because I am naught but a poor white girl. If someone sued me, it would only make the person doing look like a monster desperate to get cash. A MONSTER. Just sayin'.

(Also, I'm thinking of redoing my old fic. Read this over and tell me what you guys think, okay? Your reviews mean a lot to me.)

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"Ratchet? Ratchet, speak to me."

This isn't right. There is something very, very wrong with this picture. Clank shakes Ratchet for the umpteenth time as the Lombax's hand goes limp. The knife clatters to the floor and Ratchet... Ratchet's eyes are going cold. Clank begins to panic.

"Ratchet, I am begging you, say something."

There's blood all over him. His clothes, his skin, his face, his hands. Most of it isn't his, some of it is his, and all of it is disturbingly fresh. All Clank can see through the layers of red is dull, dull green eyes. Eyes that are progressively going duller and becoming more distant with every passing second. There are bodies everywhere. This isn't how it is. This isn't how it is supposed to be. Ratchet does not fight with fists and knives and opponents who bleed. Opponents who were nothing more than a common gang. This isn't right. Ratchet fights with guns and things that cause explosions against opponents who flash out of existence. This isn't right and his mind will not allow this to process. Clank can practically see his friend falling apart in front of him. Ratchet's eyes are going foggy, like he's not here anymore.

"_Please_, say something. It's me, Clank."

Ratchet sags against him. This was different. This was Ratchet against his fellow Lombax, people he knew. Clank should have known something was wrong when Ratchet took off for Veldin out of the blue. He should have known something was wrong... Ratchet isn't seeing him right now. He's looking backwards in time and it scares Clank beyond comprehension. These people were part of Ratchet's past, Clank can sumise that much from the setting and the identical clothing and the massive piles of illegal merchandise. A morally better person would have been asking investigative questions. Clank is not a morally upright person in this moment. He's a friend.

He is in love and the person he loves is having a break from reality.

"RATCHET!" he screams, and shakes his friend as hard as his robotic arms can.

The scream echoes in the warehouse, but it is still no good. Ratchet isn't there. He... this... this wasn't meant to happen. He couldn't have done this... it... no. No. His mind is shutting down, locking this out. His psyche cannot take another blow, cannot allow him to be conscious in another unsafe place. If only he could get the blood off of him, he'd be better. He cannot take the reminder that this happened. Things weren't meant to come to this point, and he needs it to not be real. He can't let it be real, her won't. But the blood... he can smell it, taste it, feel it, and it mocks him by telling him that yes, this just happened. Ratchet is scared, drifting chaotically in a state of semi awareness, until...

"Ratchet, please, please wake up," Clank is holding him close. His desperation is getting to him; his own hands are begging to shake now. "Please, I swear if you wake up I will never question your logic again. I'll help you prank Qwark. I'll even play those deplorable vid-comics with you. Please, if you wake up, I'll... I'll..."

The feeling of metal against his lips interrupts the barrage of blood.

Ratchet's eyes flutter open. Clank is kissing him. Kissing him and shaking and looking beautifully blood free. Suddenly it is all _not_ too much to bear. Things... things will be okay. Shakily, Ratchet looks around, coming to.

"Clank?"

"Ratchet," Clank returns softly. The logical part of his mind tells him he should get up, get Ratchet medical attention, or at least ask some kind of question. Instead he takes a deep breath. "You are alright." His voice cracks on the last word.

"Clank, I-I can explain..."

"You don't have to right now." Clank helps him to his feet. "Let's just get the blood off of you."


	6. 61, Shyness

Author's Note: Y'know, for some reason, I picture Ratchet as someone who's not all that self confident in love. Which is usually alright in slash because then usually the other person is not so shy. Except in this case... they both are introverts in this regard. Which I believe is why we never see any RatchetClank fics. It's not due to lack of interest of lack of people picking up on the idea, it's because this is not an easy couple to write. This is much more revolutionary in my head then it will be in yours because I've been up for 27 hours at this point. -yawns- The ending of this amused me greatly. Does anyone read my author's notes anymore? I bet I could write anything here. Papaya causes cancer. I like cereal. The cake is a lie. Wheeee.

I OWN NOTHING. If you don't get it by now, you have issues.

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All this shyness is driving Ratchet crazy.

He doesn't want these little gestures. Hands brushing, eyes briefly locking, soft tones of voice. All those romance holo novels Sasha has lied. Relationships are nowhere near as fasting moving in reality as they are in fiction. There has yet to be any hot, rough, spontaneous making out. Firstly, while Ratchet loves Clank, 'hot' is not a word he'd use to describe his robot friend. Second of all, any kind of making out would be awkward and leave both of them completely unsure of what they're doing. And there has yet to be any wonderful, romantic words. Thus far it's been very awkward words with double meanings that leave both of them uneasy.

That's what he hates. When the moment is right, when things get to the dire point, they can be closer than anyone else in the universe and just as in love. Then when things are not about to fall apart, it suddenly gets hard. It's hard for Ratchet to say the words 'I love you', it's hard for him to touch Clank and not feel awkward, it's just not easy. He wants more than this. This isn't about relationships moving at the speed of light, it's about getting their relationship to move faster than a glacier.

He wants to be brave and bold in this. Ratchet wants to be smooth and romantic and charming. He wants to be able to sweep Clank off his feet at least once in this life. He would love to know what he's supposed to do right now. Ratchet doesn't know what to do or say to be all lovey dovey. He doesn't really understand how to be a boyfriend. All his life, he has been a friend first and anything else second. Every person he ever fell in love with, there was initial attraction, friendship, and off of that friendship, there came the romance. This was a great benefit at the time because it made it less awkward to start off the relationship. This was also a nightmare because Ratchet was left with no romantic conversation skills whatsoever. Nor did he know anything about communication, body language, or the whole lovers gift giving thing.

And inside it eats at him. He wants what he and Clank have to last forever. He wants Clank to know that he cares. But he has so little knowledge and experience. He's absolutely scared and absolutely clueless, a horrible combination that plays harshly into his insecurities. It isn't something he'd ever say out loud. Deep inside, he is petrified Clank is going to meet someone, some attractive robot who actually knows a thing or two about romance, and leave him. If Clank did, it'd be for the best, Ratchet knows that, because then he'd have someone he deserved more. He knows that an intelligent robot and an organic without a clue is a shaky combination at best.

That is why he is determined to end all this insane shyness. He has to, for their sake. One of them has to step up and be the romantic one. How hard could it be to just kiss Clank more often, or something? He should just do it, just reach over and kiss him.

But he can't, he realizes with a pang of horror at how cliche and overly cheesy this has all become.

He can't because of his shyness.

Oh, cringe. Did he really just think that?


	7. 26, Body Fat

Author's Notes: Warning: Insecure!Overreacting!Ratchet and Sappy!Moment (TM) headed your way. Clank may have been OOC, but I only did it for the cutesy ending of doom. Now, back to studying for my ACT... And I will NOT be distracted by fanfics, I will NOT! (pause) Now that I've said that, you just know I'm going to start updating all my stories due to the irony of such statements. Ah well, c'est la vie.

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Qwark had five percent body fat.

It did not matter how many times Clank vainly tried to tell people that such a thing wasn't healthy. Everyone involved in any kind of physical work seemed to find it impressive. Even though Ratchet wasn't an easily impressed person, even he paused at that. Qwark had proof, too. Al confirmed it. The anger Ratchet had in his heart towards Qwark was ignited by the way everyone cooed at the older man as if he'd accomplished something absolutely astounding.

Clank woke up the next day to find himself alone on the couch, with no trace of Ratchet in sight. He found his friend running Helga's training course at an insane pace.

"Ratchet! You're going to pass out at this rate," Clank warned as Ratchet moved almost too fast for Clank's eyes to follow. "Really, I must ask you to stop."

"Can't. Stop. Have to. Keep. Going." Ratchet slammed into another five robots. "Can't. Let. Qwark. Win."

"But-"

"Shut up!"

Clank's jaw dropped. Ratchet never spoke like _that_ to him. Not in a 'I hate you for suggesting that' way. Clank shook his head and sighed. "Very well. According to the clock, breakfast is about to start. Will you at least join me for it?"

"Not. Eating. Breakfast." Every word was accented by a small explosion below.

Clank's expression mirrored that of Helga's. He turned to her, at a loss. Ratchet had never seemed to take this seriously until now. Left with no response to counter this, Clank gave her a pleading look. Helga never took no for an answer. She'd be able to get Ratchet to stop this over reaction. The mammoth woman gave him a reassuring smile, turned, and began to scream.

"Tiny man! Cease your running and have breakfast. Do you want to build muscles or not?!"

"No!" Ratchet snapped several drones in half.

"No?" Helga echoed, startled. She turned to Clank. "He wants no muscles?"

"He's trying to get down to five percent body fat," Clank explained meekly, his voice betrying his worry. "I don't know why he's taking it this far, however."

"Well, _Helga_ will take care of that!"

It didn't matter that Ratchet was in the middle of a training session. She shoved aside anything that got in her way, with Clank en tow, and quickly sucker punched the unfortunate Lombax. As he was holding his head and moaning on the floor, Helga stopped the generation of new enemies. Ratchet groaned as Clank gingerly pushed his hands away to check the injury. For the first time in a while, Clank couldn't get Ratchet to look him in the eyes.

"What is the meaning of this? You want to die at this young age? Are you insane?" Helga demanded. "You go in there for two hours without telling me or the little robot and you want no breaks? You are insane!"

Ratchet sat up, not looking at either of them. "I had to."

"YOU _HAD_ TO?" the large woman roared incredulously. "Nonsense! Why would you _have_ to?"

Clank reached out, gently touching Ratchet's cheek. Dark green eyes flickered in his direction, meeting for only a brief moment. That brief moment was enough to tell Clank that something was horribly wrong. He could sense it, he could feel it within him. He felt vaguely sick, and moved closer. The psychology of Ratchet was much harder for Clank to understand than that of anyone else. Right now, he would have given his life to understand what was going on inside the Lombax's mind. Ratchet bit his lip, a telltale sign he was stressed.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Ratchet said loudly, and then like a bolt of lightning he was gone.

And in a few hours, when he got back, Clank was waiting for him in the landing bay.

They walked, silently, to their room. The tension in the air was so thick and heavy that people fell silent as they passed. Ratchet looked dead ahead, not even sparing a glance downwards. Clank looked directly at him, watching for even the slightest clue as to why this was happening. So Qwark had managed to lower the amount of fat within his body to incredibly low levels within the span of a few weeks. That did not explain all this madness. This was not merely worrying, this was causing Clank's whole body to tense, and he was mechanical, for cryin' out loud.

Ratchet sat down on the couch. It was clear from the debris, scorch marks, and bruises on him that he'd been to Annihilation Nation. So Clank didn't ask where he had been. It was clear from his absolutely exhausted face that he was tired beyond the point of belief. So Clank didn't ask if he was finished yet - he pretty much was regardless. His expression told him he didn't want to talk about what was wrong.

Clank asked anyway. "What, exactly, is bothering you, Ratchet? What is making you act like this?"

Ratchet, who had laid down on the couch to sleep, groaned and turned over.

"Was it something I did?" Clank asked quietly as he gingerly climbed onto the couch. "Was it something I said?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Ratchet turned over. His eyes met Clank's. They were scared and tired and sad. "Qwark is a moron."

"Correct."

"He's a slacker."

"Correct, again."

"And I can't keep up with him," Ratchet cringed. "I can't keep up with the galaxy's biggest moron."

"Only in terms of physical strength!" Clank objected, "You are far superior to him in other ways. You have many wonderful attributes he could not dream of ever obtaining."

"I'm weak," the Lombax said softly. "I'm weak and I'm not that bright and I'm falling behind _Qwark_, of all people." Clank was about to ask why Ratchet thought that, when he continued. "I've got a crappy job and a stupid name, too. At this rate, you're just going to find someone better any day now..."

Clank was horrified. "I would not!"

Ratchet's voice began to crack. "Promise me?"

"Yes, I promise you, Ratchet."

His expression lightened considerably as he smiled at his robotic companion. "I... I love you, Clank."

"I love you," Clank returned softly, kissing Ratchet gently. Never before had he seen that Ratchet had this insecurity. How could he even think that Clank would leave him? He kissed him again, more urgently. " I love you, Ratchet. _I. Love. You._ Regardless of body fat percentages."

There was a pause.

"That's awesome!" Ratchet concluded, sounding like a fanboy.

Clank sighed. "You just ruined our moment."

"Um... I love you. There, is it back?"

Clank smiled. "Not exactly. I think it will take much more making out for the moment to come back fully."

"Remind me to go on hunger strikes more often." Ratchet wrapped his arms around Clank, grinning wildly.

"If you do, I will shove Helga's 'Lard Surprise' down your stomach at every meal, body fat be damned."

"Shove it down Qwark's stomach and we'll call it even."

"...Agreed."


	8. 82, Why

Author's Notes: First off, SWEARWORDS ahead. Just two. But it is worth noting because I don't want people freaking out on me. Second of all, yes, Gravy, I borrowed Krane for this. Look, I'm sorry, I should have asked first, but you've borrowed several of my RP characters on Neopets, so we're even. I needed an insane murderer who would fit into the RC universe, okay? On that note, nothing belongs to me but the madman in this scene belongs to my friend Gravy. Used without permission.

Please note also that this theme is technically Why?/What for?/I guess/probably/I guess it's for..., all of which had to be put in as dialogue. Which is why rather than having Ratchet ask all these questions, I kind of divied it up between them. I am not a freaking miracle worker; all those questions out of one person would've sounded forced.

This, like the Blood chapter, is another fic idea that never got off the ground. So, enjoy the taste of what could have been.

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"Why Clank? Answer me, you bastard. Why him?"

Ratchet is about to die. He knows that, he knows it beyond a doubt as he holds Clank's limp body in his arms. He knows Clank has a soul. He knows they'll be together in under five minutes. That doesn't stop any of his anger towards the person who did this.

The person in question shrugs rather nonchalantly. "I hate robots."

"Why?"

"Because."

The answer is so juvenille and stupid Ratchet wishes he had any kind of weapon right now. He'd kill this man with a single shot if he had to. Anything to get him back for this travesty.

"That's your whole reason? Because?!" Ratchet mocked him, no longer afraid to die.

For a moment, the face of the murderer twists. Beyond his dark brown eyes, memories are playing before his eyes, and Ratchet realizes that 'because' is not the reasoning behind this murder spree. 'Because' is not why a good two hundred organics and four hundred robots are dead right now.

"Why did you do this? What for?"

Clank's body is pressed against his, all light gone from his eyes. Ratchet can't take the sight. It's driving him insane to see Clank dead for no reason. There has to be a reason for this, has to be logic to it. After all this, they can't die in vain. They did so much, accomplished more than they'd ever dreamed, and now a random person was going to bring it all down in the span of ten minutes? Ratchet could see one of his guns a few feet away, but to get to it, he'd have to drop Clank, and he wasn't willing to do that.

"I guess..." he trails off, trying to put it into words as he absently pulls one of his knives from Qwark's body, "I guess... Probably..."

Ratchet can see his life flash before his eyes when knives are pulled from other bodies. The madman is getting ready to end it. His mind is screaming at him to run, to grab his gun, to do something, some last act of self preservation. He stays still, cradling Clank to him as if that will make everything better. As if holding onto Clank will make the human in front of him vanish.

"I guess it's for every robot who ever hurt anyone I knew." This logic seems to satisfy him, as Ratchet can only watch in horror as telekinesis raises twenty knives into the air. "Now shut up. You're the last one in this area; after this, I've got other cities to hit. _Bigger_ cities."

"Clank never did _anything_ to you," Ratchet hisses, before he can stop himself. "He never did anything to hurt anyone. Why him?"

The killer rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his thick nuclear orange hair, bored. "He was a robot. Why the hell do you care?"

"I..." Ratchet doubles over as at least ten knives go straight through him. He doesn't let Clank go, in spite of the massive pain. "I love him." He glares at him, angry green eyes meeting indifferent brown. "But you probably don't understand that."

"I guess not."

Ratchet's body was later buried with Clank's.


	9. 28, Secret

And I'm back! And no one cares! But I've got nachos, Monster Khaos and nothing better to do, so let's get this party started!

I own nothing at all and if you sue me, I will make a public spectacle out of you that will include writing a book on how you've damaged my life, making interview rounds on talk shows, and posting videos to YouTube in which I sob hysterically over this injustice. Oh, and you'll lose the case on top of that because you have no legal grounds on which to stand.

Still wanna sue me, bitches?

-- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - --

Beneath the layers of heroics, Ratchet is scared.

Not for his physical safety. Oh, no, one can only dodge death so many times before the whole thing becomes a grand joke and laughter ensues while everyone else screams. Although Clank's physical safety is a bit more worrying, well, Clank is made out of metal and therefore takes the various impacts and narrowly avoided explosions better than Ratchet does. No, he's not at all concerned with their physical wellbeing.

It's his own mind he worries about. He knows he's not like the average boyfriend. He isn't dashingly handsome. Courtney Gears outdid him in the looks department by a mile. Qwark is stronger than him in sheer strength. And everyone, absolutely _everyone_, is better than Ratchet at giving affection. It's not his fault, okay? He wasn't raised in a mushy, lovey dovey environment. He doesn't know how to do the whole casual hugs, quick kiss thing other couples have mastered. Ratchet never actually had a relationship, thinking back on it, that lasted more than a month.

He was so lost. So utterly, totally out of his league. And though it made him cringe when Clank looked at other people _that_ way, it wasn't exactly like Ratchet could blame him. Any other person probably would've been a better boyfriend. They knew what the hell they were doing. Ratchet knows he should probably feel annoyed, jealous or even angry.

All he really is, is scared.

Terrified, actually. That Clank will move on and find someone better, obviously. But also that maybe he himself can't love. Maybe he can't hold down a real relationship. Maybe he's too immature for it. He's never had anyone he really loved before. Is that because he can't? Is it possible that some people might never be able to love? Ratchet hasn't ever asked anyone if that was a possibility. It would be terrifying to open himself up like that. It sounds so stupid when he considers saying out loud. Everyone would probably just roll their eyes at him. Not that calling his fears stupid has helped them go away any within his own mind. The facts remain that Ratchet wakes up every day, expecting Clank to have left without warning. Clank can do better, find someone who has some idea what they're doing or how to love.

Yet, oddly enough, he hasn't given up on Ratchet.

Maybe that's because, inside, Clank secretly fears the exact same things.


	10. 20, Contract

AN: Say it with me now: Aww, cute.

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No contract will ever bind Clank so tightly he can't find time for Ratchet.

No amount of money, movie deals or wealth could ever mean anything. The fact is, Clank doesn't place much value on money. All he wants in this life, really, is to be able to just come home and relax. To have Ratchet call him buddy and play games with him. Even though other robots would kill for the kind of acting contract Clank has, honestly, it doesn't mean anything to him. It's worthless in and off itself.

He doesn't care about the fame, either. About the screaming fangirls, over the top lines, and being recognized everywhere. This rather stupid little show has given him recognition he'd never had before. But somehow, he found himself unable to enjoy it. Being mobbed, screamed at and stalked by the fans was not an ego booster. It was creepy. Creepy, freaky, and the worst part of his day. For all the time he'd spent acting, he was not in love with the show. The plotline, the co stars, the pretty robot women - it was all so gagtastically fake. He was definitely not in this out of love for it.

The only reason, really, he keeps going at this is because when he gets home from long, boring work days, Ratchet will there. Ratchet, having done his bit part and gone home, will be sprawled out on the couch, his expression dull. He never minds when Clank clamors onto the couch and collapses into his lap. There will be a comment on the show - usually some snarky little insult to the director - and Clank will close his eyes and simply feel at home. Here, he has finally found a place where he is content. No one on that overblown cash cow they called the set seemed to care about Clank. Ratchet, on the other hand, cared, and expressed that caring with a running commentary on Clank's day that made the little robot chuckle and smile. Moments like these, truly, were what Clank lived for.

And so no matter what his contract says, Clank goes across the universe with Ratchet, not once regretting how angry everyone else is. Let them all hate him, call him a flake and make his part in that god forsaken show smaller. He doesn't care.

There's no contract more important than friendship.


End file.
